


the red review

by slugpostage



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Advice Column, Bisexual Big Red (HSM: The Series), Bisexual Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series), Boys with feelings, F/M, Gen, Language, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Queer Ashlyn Caswell (HSM: The Series), Secret Identity, because i dont know who to ship???, big red has a tumblr, big red is crushing, big red is stressed, i mean i guess everyone has feelings, i was inspired by lizzie mcguire, implied-ish redlyn, one sided redky, seb and big red are FRIENDS guys i NEEDED THIS in the show, seb is an enigma and we love it, we love and respect the all-knowing gina porter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slugpostage/pseuds/slugpostage
Summary: Having trouble in your life? Need some advice from an expert? Just ask Primary in The Red Review!The Red Review is the official advice column of East High written by students for students. The column is updated every Thursday after school. Submit your questions via our Tumblr page.
Relationships: Big Red & Ashlyn Caswell, Big Red & Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series), One-Sided Big Red/Ricky Bowen (HSM: The Series) - Relationship
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	1. Head Over Heels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> I have a crush on my best friend’s brother. We’ve been Snapchatting for a while, and I think he likes me back, but I’m scared she’ll FREAK if she finds out. I’m scared to tell her the truth, but I really like him. Should I go for it? 
> 
> Signed,  
> Head Over Heels

_ Dear Head Over Heels, _

_ Having to hide your feelings from your best friend is a total bummer, especially when it’s about her own brother. I think you need to tell her the truth. I don’t think she’ll freak out about the two of you if you’re honest with her about it. Talking is the best way to work through a problem. It’ll bring you closer as friends if you’re open and honest with her.  _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

Big Red hit “send” and closed his laptop, smiling to himself. Nothing makes him feel better than helping people with their problems—anonymously, of course. He couldn’t let anyone find out about his secret identity.

He’s been running The Red Review since freshman year under the alias Primary. It’s been kinda tough to keep under wraps, but he hasn’t failed yet. It’s kind of cool to have a secret identity, though. It’s like he’s Superman or something. 

“Uh, Big Red?”

He startles and looks up, “Yeah?”

Ricky nods down toward his textbook, “We still have the rest of the chapter to look through.”

Oh. He and Ricky came to the library earlier to study for their history class. He brushes it off nonchalantly, “Oh, yeah, right, of course.” 

“You shut your laptop.” Ricky points to his laptop with his pencil. Right, he told him he was taking notes. He was, at first, but then he saw how flooded his Tumblr was. 

“Oh, I just...I needed a break,” he says with a chuckle. “Y’know, my eyes got tired.”

Sometimes the column makes him feel like a big hypocrite. He just gave advice about honesty and now he’s lying to his best friend. 

“Want to just call it a day?” Ricky offers. “My brain’s fried, and I think the only thing that can help is to go to the skatepark. It’s been too long since I’ve skated.” 

“Sure.” Big Red understands. With everything going on in the musical, it was kind of weird to have a free day. They have practice  _ every day _ after school, which is dumb because he’s only supposed to be a techie, but Miss Jenn preaches that everyone should be included. He’s caught himself on numerous occasions answering questions behind the clothing rack in the dressing room so no one would see him because rehearsals ran into his posting schedule.

He starts to pack up, putting his notes away into his planner. Oh shit, it’s Thursday. No wonder he got so many letters. “Actually, Ricky, can we raincheck? I have, uh, laundry to do.” 

Laundry? Seriously? Red knows he can’t lie to people, but  _ laundry _ ? He’s never even done his own laundry! His parents won’t let him anywhere near the washing machine!

“Yeah, dude, of course. You need a ride home?” 

He shakes his head, “Nah, I can take the bus.” Yes, Red, you  _ would  _ like a ride home. You just feel too guilty because you can’t take your own advice, and in more ways than one. He watches Ricky pack up and walk out of the library. He lets out a groan and practically smacks his head down onto his laptop. 

Writing the column is gonna be harder than he thought. 


	2. A Fearful Freshman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary, 
> 
> PSATs are coming up soon, and I’m totally buggin’. My mom has been talking non-stop about how these tests are gonna determine my future. I’ve heard these things are bad news, but it’s the only thing that’ll get me into college, and I’m afraid I’ll flunk out. What should I do?
> 
> A Fearful Freshman

_ Dear Freshman,  _

_ First things first, I need you to breathe for a second. I also need you to realize that you’re  _ only a freshman. _ You’ll get to take this test at least four more times before the real thing, so you’ll have plenty of practice! Plus, with the new homework curriculum, you’ll know what kind of questions will be on the test.  _

_ Remember, these tests don’t determine how smart you are, they only determine how good you are at taking standardized tests. _

_ Signed,  _

_ Primary _

Big Red switched back to his tab of SAT Prep and sighed. Yeah, it was PSAT season at East High, and because he’s a junior, he’s in deep shit. Luckily, he has a study buddy. 

“Okay,” Ashlyn starts. “We should probably start with the grammar section since it’s one of the easier ones. Then we can move onto the harder stuff.”

“Math?” Big Red says dully. 

She sighs, “Yep.” 

Big Red groans, “I hate math. It’s literally the worst. Like, I’m gonna have a phone and an accountant, so I don’t know how logarithms and quadratics are gonna help me.” 

Ashlyn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “I hate it too, but I need it for, like, everything I do. I haven’t decided what I want to do after I graduate, so I’m in almost every extracurricular.” 

Big Red smiles. He remembers running into her at the Ren Faire last year—Ricky wouldn’t go with him because he thought it was lame. He also remembers her coming into his photoshop class in September with the rest of her baking club to sample a few apple tarts. They were so good he cried. And, he remembers how pissed Mr. Mazzara was when he learned that Ashlyn scored a lead in the musical. It might’ve screwed the Robotics club, but it did wonders for the theater. 

“I think you should be a songwriter,” he suggests. “I mean, you wrote that  _ amazing  _ song you sang with Nini. Who’s to say you can’t write for Taylor Swift once her talent spout runs dry?” 

“You thought it was amazing?” Ashlyn asks.

“Well, yeah, who wouldn’t?” He glanced back over to his inbox and saw five more letters come in. He looked back to Ashlyn, who was fiddling with a crystal. She was pretty, but he was busy. His inbox could never seem to stay empty, even if he was queueing all of his posts and answering them  _ before _ Thursday, something he hasn’t done before. Who knows, though, obviously not Big Red.

“We should probably start,” Ashlyn says after a few moments. “Uh, fair warning, I might ask you for help more than an acceptable amount of times. How are you so good at English stuff?” 

“Oh, just lots of practice, I guess,” he says, brushing it off. “I’m used to writing a lot of essays.” 

“Are you sure  _ you  _ don’t want to go into writing?” Ashlyn asks.

He shakes his head, “No, I feel like if I wrote all my life, I’d hate it. I’d rather just keep it as a hobby.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” He watches as Ashlyn takes her phone out. “Do you think that’s how Primary from  _ The Red Review _ feels?” 

Big Red feels his entire brain shut down. “Uhh...what?” 

“Well, I mean, E.J. said they’ve been doing it since his sophomore year, and they keep getting more and more popular. I’m just saying, like, do you think they ever get  _ tired _ of it?” 

“I mean...yeah, probably.” More than you’d ever know. But he loves it, so he couldn’t give it up, not even if he wanted to. “But, hey, if you love something, right?” 

“Yeah you’re right,” she says, pocketing her phone. “We should get started. For real this time.” 

Big Red nods and closes out of Tumblr. “Yeah.” 


	3. Scared "Straight"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> I’ve been struggling with my sexuality since middle school. My best friend has been with me through thick and thin, and I trust him with my life. Even though he’s straight, he’s been really supportive of me since I came out to him. There’s just one problem: I’m in love with him. What should I do?
> 
> Signed,
> 
> Scared “Straight”

_ Dear Scared “Straight”, _

_ Let me preface by saying your alias might be the best I’ve seen. The pun is of the highest quality. _

_ As for your problem, well, that’s a toughie. There are a number of factors here that are undetermined. How do you know that he’s straight? Unless he’s explicitly said so, you don’t know if he is or not. If I were in your situation, I feel like that’s what I would do, and see where it goes from there. Because I don’t know all of the details, it’s hard for me to give you a solid answer. Just follow your heart and do what feels right.  _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

Big Red glances up at the clock. It took him twenty minutes to answer just  _ one _ question. Has he lost his touch? 

He feels someone flick something at his head. “Ow,” he mutters. He looks around for what was thrown, and he finds a little paper wasp on the floor. 

He picked it up and unfolded it,  _ meet after class? _

Big Red scans the room and sees Ricky waving at him. He rolls his eyes and nods, turning back to his laptop. Why didn’t he just text him? They’re allowed to have their phones on them, and it’s not like they don’t have service at school.

Wow, okay, why is he being so harsh all of a sudden? He’s been taking the way he writes the column too personally. Maybe he needs a break? Or maybe he needs to find a better way to manage his time? He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter right now, he needs a break. He logs onto Cool Math and plays Papa’s Burgeria until the bell rings.

Ricky meets him outside of the door. “Hey,” he says, “did you get my wasp?” 

“Yeah,” Red answers and starts walking. “Why didn’t you just text me? We’re allowed to have our phones.” 

Ricky just flashes a smile, “I’ve been watching this girl make origami on YouTube for the past week, and I don’t know. It’s kind of addictive. I figured I’d try my own. Pretty cool, huh?” 

“Ricky, a paper wasp isn’t origami, it’s a war tactic,” he deadpans. 

“Well,  _ I  _ thought it was cool. I took it up after reading one of Primary’s responses. They said to  _ ‘deviate from the norm’ _ , so I was, like, ‘yeah, I can do that!’ and I just went for it.” 

Big Red let out a quick sigh and tried to sound as cheery as possible, “Yeah, that’s great!” He was  _ not _ going to let a confidential blog post bring him down. Not on Pizza day.

“Actually…” Ricky’s voice drops from lighthearted to nervous. “I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Uh…” They stop in front of Red’s locker and he puts in the combo. “Sure, what’s up?” 

“I think I’m bisexual?” 

Fuuuuuuuuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Why does his Tumblr have to infiltrate his life like this? 

“Uh…” He can’t say anything. Why can’t he say anything? Be supportive! 

“I just—I guess I’ve always known? And, like, I saw one of Primary’s responses a couple days ago about different sexualities, and how it’s perfectly normal to, like,  _ not _ be straight…” He readjusts his grip on the strap of his bag. “Anyways, um, I know you’re, like, not straight, either, so I just wanted to, uh, tell you...also because you’re my best friend...is this weird? It’s really warm in here all of a sudden…”

Jesus, that was a trainwreck. He’s never seen him so nervous before, and he watched him ask Nini out. “Ricky…”

“I know we’re bros, but can I have a hug?” 

“Of course you can, big guy,” Big Red says, wrapping his arms around him. “Hugging is a normal remedy for stress, and anyone who thinks two bros can’t hug has little dick energy and a fragile ego.” 

Ricky nods against his shoulder and holds him tightly. Red can tell he really needs this. With everything going on at home, it probably isn’t easy for him. It makes him think that maybe his problems with Primary aren’t as significant as he thinks. 


	4. Imposter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> Does it ever feel hard to have a secret identity? I’m asking because every day, I feel like an imposter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're bringing plot in 2020
> 
> i didn't intend for this to have a really deep-set plot—it was mostly supposed to be just drabbles revolving around the site. but as i continued to write different scenes, i couldn't help but think i needed to write out a plot. 
> 
> so now there's plot.
> 
> the scenes i've written so far have been written out of order. like, the scenes i will post after this will have been written before this. it's not for artsy reasons, i'm just all over the place.
> 
> so please, enjoy this with all ur heart, and tell me if you like it.

Big Red pushed his laptop off of his lap. He struggled with this one for quite a while. 

He read it over and over again, he tried to put it away so he could come back to it, he tried to outright ignore it, but it just couldn’t escape his mind. 

Sure, he could lie, but  _ The Red Review _ was all about honesty to him. It was all about showing what he thought of any given situation, whether it was nice to the recipient or not. He gave his truth. And truth be told, he  _ did _ feel like an imposter sometimes. He felt like he couldn’t talk to his friends about what he really wanted to. He felt like there were so many eyes on him while he was used to blending into the background. When he was Primary, the world of East High looked up to him. 

When he was Big Red, he was just a nobody. 

He’s not upset with it, either. If he were to reveal his name, no one would look at him the same. The column wouldn’t have taken off like it did. People he didn’t know would constantly come up to him at school, in the hall, on his Instagram, asking him for advice. If Big Red said the wrong thing, it could be used against him, and thousands of people would turn against him in the blink of an eye. 

Was Primary a facade?

Red looked up at the ceiling. He watched his eyes adjust to the darkness of his room, the blues and purples and blacks of the dark making patterns and constellations before him. He tried focusing on something else, tried to look at the secondaries, the tertiaries, the tints and the shades.

But all he could see was Primary.

———

Big Red walked into school on Friday with bags under his eyes. Ashlyn met him at his locker. 

“Hey,” she says, tugging on a Rainbow Loom bracelet. She looks him up and down, scrunching her nose. “Are you okay? You look like you haven’t slept in years.” 

“That’s because I haven’t,” He responds, opening his locker and shoving his textbooks inside. “Well, it hasn’t been  _ that _ long. I just look like the undead when I don’t get my beauty sleep.” 

Ashlyn holds up a finger and pulls her bag in front of her, pulling a thermos out of the side pocket. “I have coffee,” she offers. 

Big Red takes the thermos and inspects it, “Can I chug it?” 

She grimaced, “I wouldn’t chug it.”

“I feel like I want to chug it.” 

“Please don’t—”

“I’m gonna chug it.” 

Big Red unscrews the top and tips his head back. When it hits his tongue, he recoils in disgust and immediately pushes it away. “What the hell?” 

“I told you not to chug it,” Ashlyn chides. He can tell she’s trying her hardest not to laugh.

“What even  _ is _ this? I’m more of a hot chocolate guy, but I mean—fuck, how is it so sugary but so  _ bitter _ ?” 

Ashlyn nods calmly, “It’s a latte—which is, like, fake coffee, with seven shots of espresso.” 

Red looks at her like she has four arms, six eyeballs, and two and a half torsos. “What the fuck?” 

Ashlyn shrugs as if she’s surrendering, “Hey, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea—”

“Yeah, ‘cus that’s, like, liquid meth!” Big Red closes his locker and slings his bag over his shoulder. “Not gonna lie, though, I still want some.”

The pair laughed and bumped shoulders as they walked to their first period classes. It had become weirdly routine for Ashlyn to walk Big Red to his photoshop class. Sometimes he’d walk her up to English, which meant he could slide down the railing instead of walking down the stairs, but that was definitely not happening today. 

“Hey, so,” Ashlyn starts, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I wanted to run something by you real quick, tell me if you’re okay with it.” 

“Yeah, sure,” he says.

“I think I want to find out who Primary is.”

Big Red stops in his tracks. “What? Wait—why?” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know. No, that’s a lie, I  _ do _ know.” She walks them over to the side of the hallway, tucked behind a row of lockers. “I just—they’re an enigma, you know? Like, everyone at school knows who they are, everyone here  _ idolizes _ them, but no one here actually  _ knows _ them. I want to be the person who does.” 

Red pulls the strap of his backpack closer to his body. “Do you—do you ever think that Primary is anonymous for a reason? It’s because they don’t  _ want _ to be known.”  _ It’s just easier that way _ , he says to himself. 

“Well,  _ yeah _ ,” she says. “Of course, I get that. I’m just thinking, like, maybe it’d be nice for them to have someone to talk to, and I think the students of East High deserve to know who they’re putting their faith in.” 

No, no, no, he  _ can’t  _ let her do this. He shakes his head, “Ashlyn, I don’t think you do. What Primary wants to show to the world is their business, not yours. You don’t know who’s behind the screen, you can’t be the one to make that call.” 

Ashlyn doesn’t speak for a few moments, and Red can feel his nerves bubble inside of his throat. 

“Okay,” she says finally. “I’ll change your mind somehow.” 

They walk to Red’s class in a tense kind of silence, but when he walks in, his fingers can’t stop flitting over the keyboard. 

_ I don’t think you’re an imposter. I think that whatever you decide to showcase to the world is your choice. Even if it’s different from what you think is on the inside, it still doesn’t make you an imposter. I think there’s something comforting about being able to put up walls. Sure, it is hard, but at the end of the day, it almost feels easier writing behind an alias than being myself.  _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _


	5. Jellyfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> How do I make my life worthwhile? 
> 
> Signed,  
> Jellyfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter, dedicated to disasterfeminist

Big Red feels like he’s in a slump. All he’s done is sit in bed, watch Korean dramas, and sleep. He hasn’t even touched his Tumblr inbox. He’s too scared. 

After what Ashlyn said about finding out who Primary is, it’s almost as if Red completely shut down. He tried responding to more letters in his other classes, but he caught himself signing them with his real name. He’s glad he has his posts queued, or else he wouldn’t have put anything out. 

He feels a weight sink into his bed. It’s too big to be an animal—he’s given up on hoping that his parents will get him a puppy. He’s been asking for a beagle since he was six after he watched the Puppy Bowl. Who could resist those floppy ears? 

See, thinking about stuff like this was so much easier than trying to write letters. They used to be easy, but his personalized depression cloud makes his mind too foggy to be able to think. 

“Come on, Red. You’ve been in bed for two days straight. You gotta get up.” 

He looks over to find Ricky sitting on the edge of his bed. Does the universe like to torture him? 

He pulls his comforter over his head and curls into the fetal position. “I’m in a funk, go away!” His reply is muffled, but he thinks it delivered the message.

“I’m not leaving,” Ricky says with a chuckle. 

Red let out a huff. Leave it to Ricky to be persistent. “Who even let you in?”

“Your mom did,” he answers. “Now, get out of bed and take a shower. We’re going out.”

His heart skipped around ten beats, but he pushed it far back in his mind. He flips his blanket over and sits up, “Where?” 

“We’re gonna go skating,” he says, and Big Red’s face falls. 

Look, don’t get him wrong, going to the skate park with Ricky used to be fun, but he only went to watch. He can’t skate for shit. He does it to travel, but that's really it. Ricky tried to teach him tricks in seventh grade, but that ended with Big Red in a cast. “Seriously?”

Ricky shakes his head, “Not like that. We’re going roller skating. It’s disco night at the rink.”

Ah, yes, disco night. He can't remember the last time he and Ricky went to a disco night without Nini. It used to be their thing—he would go to the skate park with Ricky and in return, Ricky would take him to the roller rink. But one day Nini showed up and she never seemed to leave. Don't get him wrong, he likes Nini, but he couldn't help but feel like she was always encroaching on their bro time. 

There might have been some...underlying _feelings_ involved, too, but Red refused to think about it.

“Ricky, I don’t know…”

He thinks it’s always been there, but the first time he remembers noticing was three years ago. He was hanging out at Ricky’s house—nothing out of the ordinary. They would always go to his house after school to do homework and would end up playing Guitar Hero or Mario Kart instead. Sometimes he’d spend the night after, and borrow some of Ricky’s clothes the next day. He started staying over so much that Ricky gave him his own drawer in his dresser, but he’d never really thought anything of it. 

_“Dude, can I borrow one of your hoodies?” Red asked one morning. “It’s cold as hell out, and the only thing I have is a t-shirt.”_

_“I don’t know, man, that’s kinda gay,” Ricky joked. He pulled one of his hoodies off of a hanger and threw it at Red, who just barely caught it. “Here. I’m gonna go make some Pop-Tarts.”_

_Red gave him a short nod and a nervous chuckle in response, feeling hyper-aware of the fabric touching his hands. It felt icy hot, burning his skin and sending pricks of cold up his arm. He didn't think there was anything wrong with sharing clothes like that. They were best friends. What's so bad about sharing hoodies?_

_Then he remembered, oh yeah, that's what people do when they're dating. He didn't want to date Ricky, right? He glanced down at the hoodie in question and let out a sigh. Why was that such a loaded question? He reminisced on all the times Ricky lent him his jackets, and he felt the same warm and fuzzy feeling of butterflies building up in his—fuck._

“Come on, man, it'll be fun!” Ricky says, snapping him from his train of thought. 

Somehow, Red wasn’t convinced. Yeah, it might be shitty for him to overanalyze everything and hold onto it for so long, but he can't help it—his mind always goes back to Nini and the hoodies, and it plagues everything he tries to do. 

Ricky’s voice softens, “At least get up, man. I hate seeing you like this.” 

He looked up to meet Ricky’s eyes, and—ouch. He can’t stand to see him look so sad. Ricky’s been with him for one of the worst spirals he’s had, and he remembers how badly that tore him up. 

Red shakes his head, “Okay, fine. Wait here.” He throws his comforter off of his body and sits up, and he immediately feels dizzy. He feels like he should ask him if they can get food, but he thinks that might make him too needy. He stands up and pads into the small bathroom off of the basement. 

He doesn’t know what Ricky does while he’s in the shower, and frankly, he doesn’t care. Red just relishes in the hot water pouring from the showerhead and the feeling of washing away all of the shit he was feeling before. He thinks about singing but ultimately decides against it. He also stops himself from trying to be his therapist today because he knows he’ll fall back into the spiral if he does. 

After he’s done with his shower—which, surprisingly, only took around twenty minutes—he put on his lime green frog robe and stepped out of the bathroom. On his bed sat the most hideous pair of clothes he’s ever seen: an orange button-up, a white bedazzled vest, and matching white pants. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna throw up,” he mutters, examining the vest.

“If you hate that, then I don’t think you want to turn around.” 

Of course, he has to. You can’t just tell someone _not_ to turn around, that’s stupid. He wishes he didn’t though. Ricky stands in front of him wearing a horrendous silk floral button up and teal bell bottoms. Somehow, though, he makes it work, in a weird Ricky kind of way. 

“Why are you like this?” 

“Because it’s disco night!” Ricky exclaims, gesturing to his outfit. “C’mon, you get changed. I’m gonna start the car.” 

Ricky doesn’t give him any time to object and sprints up the stairs. Red looks down at the outfit laid out on his bed and takes a deep breath. Why does it look like that? He’s always known that he was more advanced than Ricky when it came to style, but this seemed like a new low. 

He thinks back to the look on Ricky’s face when he first walked in. He knows it must hurt to see him like this. He’s supposed to be the quirky best friend, he shouldn’t be sad. 

He looks back down to the clothes. Ricky’s done so much for him, what’s one dumb outfit? 

———

“This was a mistake!” Big Red groans, lacing up his skates. 

“Mistakes are the most fun experiences, though!” Ricky replies, scooting around him.

“I hate that you made the skates match my outfit.” The wheels are just as orange as his shirt—and quite frankly, his hair. 

“Pure coincidence, baby. Now, come on!” Ricky reaches for Red’s arms and hauls him onto his feet. They shift a bit, still a bit wobbly on the wheels, and laugh. “They’re playing really cringy music, and I need to feel it in my throat.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s the Bee Gees,” he chuckles. Ricky just throws him a smile over his shoulder and rolls over to the rink, gripping the wall until his knuckles turn white. For a self-proclaimed skater, he looks like a newborn giraffe. But at the same time, under the color strobes and the reflection of the disco ball, he looks...kind of magical. 

He pulls out his phone and quickly types something before pocketing it and skating onto the floor. 

_Dear Jellyfish,_

_Do what makes you happy._

_Signed,_

_Primary_

  
He doesn’t think about Primary. He doesn’t think about the AP homework he forgot to do. He doesn’t think about three hours ago when he didn’t have the energy to even grab his Xbox controller. _Night Fever_ is pumping through the speakers and his heart synched to it almost instantly, and when he grabs Ricky’s hand and leads him to the middle of the rink, all he can do is smile.


	6. Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> A few of my friends keep talking about subjects that make me uncomfortable, and I don’t know how to make them stop. What should I do?
> 
> Signed,  
> Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt sad, so i decided to publish this. 
> 
> also just realized that this story probably won't be canon-compliant, because redlyn isn't endgame. whoops.

_ Dear Mouse, _

_ I think you need to stand up for yourself. If you don’t like what’s being said, tell them to knock it off. If you don’t tell them, they’ll continue to talk about it, which will push you further into a sticky situation. Don’t be afraid to speak your mind, even if they won’t agree with you. I know it’s difficult—even I have trouble doing it—but if you don’t, people will start to see you, treat you like and make you feel like a doormat. Don’t let anyone treat you that way. _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

Things have been pretty OK. The last couple of times he’s talked to Ashlyn, she hasn’t brought up anything about Primary, so he hasn’t been as anxious to talk to her. Well, there was a normal amount of anxiety involved. She made him nervous. In a good way, obviously.

He’s been able to go through a few more submissions ahead of schedule, and that’s been really good. He hasn’t had any homework in a few weeks, either—not even in his AP classes—so he even has time to go to the  _ library _ . The last time he remembers checking out a book for fun was in seventh grade. He came last month to look for books on how to run a booth in a theater. He left empty-handed. 

He has a small stack in his hands, nothing too difficult. He figures he can alternate between his Xbox and these books in two weeks—although one might get more use than the other. He turns to scan one of the stacks. Could he handle another book? 

Because his life works out in such a beautiful way, Ashlyn rushes up behind Big Red and nearly makes him drop his library books. “Hey!” 

“Jesus!” Several heads turn towards him and he almost turns as red as his hair. He lowers his voice to a whisper, “Why would you  _ do _ that?”

She shrugs, “I thought you heard me.” 

“It’s a library!” He hisses, “It’s completely silent in here!” 

“Not exactly,” Ashlyn says, her eyes flitting to the side, “it sounds like Jeremy Fischer has bronchitis.” 

It’s true, he’s been coughing up a storm since he walked in. He heard him from the hallway. When he walked past him, he held his breath and suppressed the urge to cover his mouth with his flannel.“So, what’s up?”

“Okay, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but I  _ might _ have an inkling about who Primary is.” 

Big Red feels his mouth go completely dry. “Um, uh…” No stuttering, Red! You can’t draw attention to yourself like that, she’s too smart for your own good! He puts on his best ‘excited’ face. “Wow! That’s…” He glances over to the nonfiction section. “Um...how?” 

“Well…” she starts, walking him over to a table. “I did a  _ lot _ of digging, and I found a post where they said what grade they were in. I did the math, and it looks like Primary is a junior.” 

He made a show of scoffing, “You don’t know that. What if h—they got held back or something? Or...what if there’s more than one writer as Primary? The ad  _ does _ say ‘ _ our _ Tumblr’.” Solid reasoning, Red. He can’t say he did it intentionally, though. When he first made the ad, he couldn’t exactly put “my” on it. He thought it would sound too weird if he put “my,” so he just put “our” like Tumblr staff would. Now that he thinks about it, though, it was probably because they  _ were _ a staff, meaning there’s more than one person. 

“I thought about that, too, so I read over every single one of their letters, and their voice is the same throughout. There’s no way more than one person wrote them.” 

Big Red feels like he’s stuck. It feels like somebody’s pouring honey down his throat while someone else is melting him into the chair. “I mean, you can’t be sure, though,” he tries.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrow, “I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.” She pulls out her phone and opens up the Tumblr app, “See, look! They use the same slang, and they structure their advice the same way almost every single time! You can’t replicate something like that when more than one brain works on it!” 

“Okay, but people pick up slang from one another all the time,” he says. “And it’s not really hard to write advice the same, it usually follows the same set-up no matter how you give it.” 

“Yes, Big Red, but you’re literally the worst at giving advice.” Ouch. Well, at least she’s not on his trail. 

Ashlyn pushes herself up from the table. “I’m going to crack this case, and I will stop at  _ nothing _ to be able to do it.” 

Red watches as she exits the library, and feels his stomach drop down to the core of the planet. Did that just happen? He knows he can’t escape now. Once Ashlyn sets her mind to something, she doesn’t give up. He hasn’t known her for  _ that _ long, but he can definitely tell. 

His head falls onto the table. “Why...” he mutters. He picks his head up and starts banging it against the table. “Why, why, why, why,  _ why _ ?” He wants so badly to wallow in self-pity, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

He has a text from his mom, one from Seb, and sixteen new Tumblr notifications. He shuts his phone off with a sigh. He doesn’t think he can answer any of these right now. 

Big Red stands from his seat at the table and gathers his stack of books. He checks them out and starts down the hallway and heads out the door.


	7. Drop-Out Adjacent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> I’ve been struggling with maintaining my grades, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve asked my friends and gone to help sessions, but my teacher refuses to help me, and my friends aren’t good at directing me in what to do. What should I do? 
> 
> Signed,  
> Drop-Out Adjacent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi
> 
> sorry this is super late, the space bar on my laptop is broken, so it's a pain in the ass to try to use it. i'm working on it, though.

_ Dear Drop-Out Adjacent, _

_ I understand where you’re coming from. When I signed up for my first AP class, I totally tanked, and no one really offered to help me. I decided to take matters into my own hands, and I think that might’ve been my academic saving grace. I joined a study group, and when I was really struggling, I sought out my teacher’s help or I found ways to get a tutor.  _

_ It’s important to know that even when you feel like you’re going to fail, you still have options, and you can still succeed.  _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

Big Red closed his laptop with a smile. It’s been a while since he’s gotten a question that didn’t really apply to his personal life. He’s slowly developing the habit of overthinking his replies because he thinks it will somehow affect his life outside of Primary. This one was easy, though, and he’s grateful for that. Everyone struggles with something in school. It doesn’t have to be about him. 

“Okay, everyone, great rehearsal!” Miss Jenn says, clasping her hands in front of her chest. The cast gathers themselves around her in a circle. “Make sure you’re understanding what your character wants. Try verbing all of your lines this weekend! It’ll do wonders for your performance.” 

The cast and crew filed out of the auditorium, only a few people lingering in the wings. Red went to pack up his crew bag, and he finds Seb and Carlos talking to each other.

“I already verbed my lines,” Seb says bashfully, hugging his binder close to his chest. “There’s not much to do on the farm after all of the geese are asleep—they’re usually the last to go, and the hardest to keep quiet—so I went a little crazy.”

He opened his binder for Carlos to flip through, and Carlos looked at him with a grin. “This is why you’re my favorite person here.” 

Red smiled fondly as he watched the display. He wants that, and it makes his heart ache sometimes if he thinks about it for too long. It’s only high school, though, and he still has the rest of his life ahead of him to be able to meet someone. 

After a while, Carlos leaves to work on choreography, which leaves Seb and Big Red by themselves. Seb glances up and notices his presence, smiling at him, “Hi, Red.”

Seb was nice. He was a ray of sunshine and everyone knew it, and Big Red liked that about him. They had shared a math class last year, where they bonded over how much they couldn’t do math. They later confided in each other, because, well, neither of them were straight. They weren’t exactly an unlikely duo, but no one ever really guessed that they were friends. “Hey, Seb.”

“So, how’s doing...basically everything for crew?” He asks, putting his binder away. 

“It’s fine,” Red dismisses. “I mean, it’s kind of weird to have to witness all of the tension between you-know-who.” 

Seb lets out a laugh, “Tell me about it.” The two of them begin to walk toward the dressing room, “I’m a sucker for drama, you know that, but this is painful to watch.”

Red nods, letting his mind wander back to Ricky. It doesn’t go on long, though, because Seb quickly snaps him out of it. 

“Red, you gotta chill.” He pulls him to stand in front of the dressing room mirror with him. “I know you’re thinking about him.” 

Big Red shrugs, “It’s hard not to.”

Seb nods sympathetically. “I know that, but come on. Look at yourself, babe.” He does as he’s told and Seb continues. “You could do so much better than a clueless skater boy.” 

“But Avril Lavigne—”

“I know what Avril Lavigne said,” he interrupts. “But you can’t keep doing this. Especially not now.” 

He hates that he’s so right. Seb has always been right about a lot of things. He knew how  _ Camp Rock 2: The Final Jam _ was going to end, just like he knew how pining after Ricky was going to end. 

“You’re going to end up hurt, and you know it. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but he isn’t going to get over Nini that soon. And no, before you put yourself down, it’s not because she’s a girl and she’s supposedly better than you. It’s because he’s a boy that fell in love at sixteen.” 

“Boys are stupid,” Red replies. 

Seb lets out a light laugh, “They are. But you like them anyway because they’re pretty.”

This time it was Big Red’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, they are.” He turns around to look at Seb, “Thank you. For always being there for me. Um, I know it might feel like I abandon you sometimes, but—”

“Red, chill,” Seb pushes. “It’s fine. We’re on different paths leading different lives within the same universe. Our crosses don’t need to be constant.”

“Gosh, you sound like Ashlyn. It’s kinda freaking me out.” 

“Yeah,” he says, walking towards the door, “she invited me to her baking club and gave me one of her quartz crystals.”

Red nods, “Definitely freaking me out now.” He follows Seb out onto the stage, “Hey, do you have a ride home? I can wait with you if you want.”

Seb waves him on, “It’s no big, Carlos is gonna bring me home. Thank you, though. Be safe, yeah?” 

He nods, “I’ll text you when I get home.” He heads out into the hallway, stopping at his locker to grab his helmet. He skated to school this morning, despite the abnormally cold weather. He didn’t want to think about being in a car with him, especially after having multiple crises  _ because  _ of him the night before. 

Seb was right, though. He’s always right. Ricky isn’t going to get over Nini like  _ that _ , it’s gonna take time. Red’s never been good at the waiting game, but he can give it a shot. 

On the skate home, he passes Ricky’s house without a second glance.


	8. Doormat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dear Primary,
> 
> I struggle with a lot of things. I’m extremely indecisive about a lot of things, and I don’t know how to say no to people. Things usually end with people screwing me over and me telling myself that I knew better and that next time I’ll fix it. I just don’t know how many next times it’ll take.
> 
> How can I take control over my life?
> 
> Signed, 
> 
> Doormat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coronacation tingz
> 
> i have another week of this so i might crank something out idk
> 
> for beth, whose birthday trip got cancelled because of a pandemic. love you, babs

It’s been a long fucking day. Big Red has been at school since 6:30 for an early crew meeting that was absolute  _ hell _ . He had a test in his AP class that he forgot to study for, he forgot money to buy lunch today, and to top it all off, he has to stay late for rehearsal. Not just any rehearsal, though—today is a  _ chemistry build _ . 

He gets to sit backstage and watch Miss Jenn coach Ricky and Nini on how to have believable chemistry. He knows he should be used to it by now since Ricky and Nini have been dancing around each other since middle school, but it still stings. He remembers watching them hold hands in the hallways, somehow always falling behind, despite his best efforts. He remembers Ricky’s arm draped over her shoulder at lunch, making him so uncomfortable that he had to move to sit somewhere else, or even make up an excuse to leave. He remembers when they would be  _ that  _ couple, where they would kiss whenever they could. 

He shouldn’t, he  _ knows  _ he shouldn’t, but he wishes he was in her place. 

Chemistry build days were always Red’s fuck-up days. He’ll constantly miss cues or fumble trying to hit the switches. He always messes up, and he’s been trying to get better. It’s just that Ricky gave him hope again with disco night. 

Yeah, it was a while ago, but it meant a lot to him. Ricky made time for him, something he’s been fighting for since the summer. It wasn’t even selfish time, either, where he’d come over and complain about Nini or need a shoulder to cry on, he just wanted to hang out with Big Red. Is it weird if that makes him swoon a little? 

He lays his cheek against his hand, a little lost in thought. Very lost, in fact, because his elbow slips and knocks against a switch, resetting all of their lighting cues. 

“Um—” he stammers, trying to collect his bearings, flipping a handful of switches. He shouts a delayed apology and continues to try to reset the lights. Leave it to Red to be a klutz at the absolute worst time.

It sucks feeling this way. He tried following Seb’s advice—he tried convincing himself that his crush was dumb, and he tried to imagine how shitty it would be to date him, but it didn’t work. He even went to the extent of looking up Ashlyn’s crystal magic. 

Maybe he’s destined to feel this way forever. Maybe he’s just doomed to have feelings for all the wrong people. It seems like it, at least. 

“Hey.” A voice interrupts Red’s thoughts and he jumps, turning around to look over his shoulder. Gina stands behind him, arms crossed. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” he dismisses, still trying to reset the lightboard. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well, for starters, I watched you glare at Ricky and Nini for, like, five minutes before you fell onto the light board.” As much as he wished it didn’t, Big Red’s face reflected his name perfectly, flushing tomato red. When he didn’t speak, Gina continued, “You’re also flicking the same four switches over and over again and nothing’s happening, so…”

“Okay, fine,” he says, turning to face her, “I have a problem. A really, really big problem, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Gina throws him a knowing look, “Does this problem have to do with a certain Troy Bolton?”

Red feels himself cringe unconsciously. It might’ve been because Troy Bolton from the actual  _ High School Musical _ was his bi awakening, or maybe it was because his best friend—not his crush, because Seb’s totally right—was playing Troy  _ right now _ . “Maybe?” 

Gina takes a few steps closer to him until she’s standing by his side, and lets out a long sigh. “Look, I get it,” she says, “He’s cute, but his technique is...meh, and he could use a dance lesson or two. He’s always stumbling over himself and using his _boyish_ _charm_ to get out of sticky situations.” He can hear the eye roll in her voice. “I think you’re blowing your image of him out of proportion.” 

Red scoffs, “What? No way! Ricky is, like, perfect!” He turns to look at her, but all she does is raise a brow. “Okay, well, not like  _ perfect _ perfect, but he’s good enough!” 

“I don’t think someone  _ good enough _ should be worth making you lose yourself over,” she says. “He knows everyone’s tripping over him, guys  _ and _ girls. He’s like…a watered-down version of EJ, except he’s just now learning that he’s got it.”

“Do you talk shit about, like,  _ everyone  _ you meet? You’ve only been here for, like, a month,” Red says. 

Gina laughs, “I don’t really think it’s talking shit. I’m not gossiping, and it isn’t something you don’t already know. You just haven’t opened your eyes to it.” She turns to him, “I think they’re both great people, I just don’t let myself ignore their flaws for the sake of being friends.”

They sit in silence after that, watching Ricky and Nini continue to rehearse their scenes. Red lets his mind wander to prevent him from reading into their acting, but all that does is pull him further into the situation. Was Ricky really flawed? Sure, he hasn’t been talking to Red since he got with Nini, or since he joined the play, even though he  _ dragged _ him there—oh. Oh shit, well,  _ yeah _ . 

But if Ricky was so flawed, where does that put him? 

———

At the end of rehearsal, Red raced to find Gina before she left. He caught her talking to some of the ensemble members—he wished he knew their names, but he never bothered to learn them. He figured it was too late to learn them now. 

“Hey, Gina!” He says, doing a weird half-jog to get to her. “Hang on a sec!”

She turns around, slipping her phone into the pocket of her bomber jacket. She moves to meet him halfway. “Hey, Red…” she said, sounding mildly uncomfortable, “What’s…”

“Okay, so, remember when you said that Ricky was, like, super flawed and stuff?” 

“Uhh—”

He cuts her off, “Great. So...what am I?” 

She takes a moment, looking him up and down. He shifts on the balls of his feet, feeling a bit self-conscious. After a while, she looks up, meeting his eyes. “Red, you’re a doormat.”

“What?” He says, tilting his head. “A doormat? I mean—are you sure?” 

“See?” Gina says, gesturing to him, “That just proves it more.” Her phone flashes in her pocket and she promptly takes it out. “Look, my ride’s here, I gotta go.”

Big Red gives a small wave as she walks away and lets out a long sigh. He turns on his heel and walks towards the dressing room. It should’ve cleared out by now, but he doesn’t care if it isn’t. He doubts anyone will even care what he’s doing. 

He pulls up Tumblr on his phone, goes into his drafts, and types away. 

_ Dear Doormat, _

_ Well, that makes two of us. I, myself, am a huge doormat, and I often push aside my own needs for the sake of others—something you definitely  _ shouldn’t  _ do. I think the best thing to do is to figure out how to prioritize yourself and distinguish your wants versus other peoples’ wants. It’s also important to remember that you aren’t the only one struggling with something. Everyone has flaws, but people choose to ignore them in favor of their own images of them.  _

_ Be true to yourself, Doormat. _

_ Signed,  _

_ Primary  _


	9. Welcome Back / NOT A Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. Sorry I’ve been away for so long. Life gets crazy, especially now, but don’t worry—I’ll be replying to your letters soon.
> 
> Signed,  
> Primary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! it's been a while!
> 
> lots has happened since i last updated, and i apologize for being gone for so long. 
> 
> but i'm here now! with a chapter! yaaaaaay! AND ITS PLOT SO THATS GOTTA COUNT FOR SOMETHING

“Alright, Big Red, you can do this.”

Red stares at his reflection. He made sure to wake up early this morning so he could have time to psych himself up for the day. After talking with Gina and Seb, he thought about how much he actually relied on other people, and how much he let himself be a doormat to everyone else. 

Today he has decided to become a new man. He picks up his toothbrush and toothpaste and continues with his pep talk. 

“What’s the worst that can happen, right? You are in charge of you, an oo aw da beff dere iff! Dey don’ caw oo Bih Reh fow nuffih!” 

He spits and rinses, looking back up at himself. He frowns as a reflex, instantly doubtful. “Can I really do this?” He takes a deep breath and walks out of the bathroom, eyes glancing toward one of his shelves. 

He spots something he thought was long forgotten out of the corner of his eye. Without a second thought, he walks over towards the shelf, picking it up. 

Big Red takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, “Magic 8-ball, am I a dumbass?” He shakes it vigorously, and opens one eye to peek at the answer.

_ As I see it, yes. _

He scowls down at the toy, “That doesn’t sound very objective, Magic 8-ball.”

He flops back down onto his bed. Wait, no, he can do this. It’d be stupid to waste a pep talk just because of a toy he bought at a garage sale. 

Today, he decided he’d take Ashlyn up on her offer. He was gonna help her figure out who Primary is.

Yeah, that’s kind of dumb, considering he  _ is _ Primary, but it’s not like she’s gonna know. Plus, he needs a distraction. To stop being a doormat, he needs to start making his own decisions, which means having some time away from Ricky. He makes things too complicated, and Big Red can’t deal with it right now. 

He opens his laptop and refreshes his Tumblr, looking at all of the messages flowing in. Jeez. Has it really been that long? He’d only been gone for about a week, but seeing all of those messages coming in makes it seem like eight months. 

_ Hey, guys. Sorry I’ve been away for so long. Life gets crazy, especially now, but don’t worry—I’ll be replying to your letters soon. _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

That should fix things. 

He packs his laptop into his backpack, puts his helmet on, grabs his skateboard and sets out. He told Ashlyn he’d meet her at the pizza shop, which is only about a five minute skate from his house. He doesn’t doubt that E.J. will drop her off, but she says he’s a terrible driver, which just means that he can reply to letters until she gets there, and she’ll be too pissed about him almost running over squirrels to ask what he’s doing for at least ten minutes. 

“Goodness, Big Red, you are  _ smart _ . An absolute  _ genius _ ,” He says, continuing his pep talk as he skates. “How could you ever doubt yourself? Your intellect is unmatched. Never in your life has anyone been able to compare to you. You’re just so talented. So talented, even, that you could probably do a kickflip right now. Who cares if you’ve never done one before, so what? You are the only one holding you ba—AH!” 

He kicks his foot out too far and pushes the board out from under him. Good thing he landed in the grass when he fell, because breaking another bone would  _ not _ be fun.

“Okay...so, setbacks. Those are normal. It’s fine, everything’s gonna be fine,” he tells himself. “At least you wore a helmet and pads.” He gets up and dusts himself off, doing an awkward jog to retrieve his skateboard a few meters away. He hops back on, refraining from any cool tricks, and heads to the pizza shop. 

———

“Can you believe him?!” Ashlyn huffs, taking off her jean jacket and draping it over the back of her chair. “He ran  _ three  _ stop signs on the way here. Three! There’s only, like, five along the whole stretch!” 

“Well, that’s E.J. for you,” Big Red replies, typing away on his laptop. “You’re related to him, how come you don’t remember this?” 

She sighs, taking a seat. “I don’t know. I guess I hoped he’d get better at driving with practice. Hey, what’re you doing?” 

He looks up. “Uh…” Currently, he was working on a response to a letter. 

Dear Primary,

My mom’s been making me carrot cake cupcakes for my birthday ever since my first birthday party. There’s only one problem—I hate carrot cake! How do I break it to her?

Signed,

NOT A Rabbit

Letters like these always make him chuckle. Sometimes he forgets what it’s like to deal with an easy, solvable problem.

“Just finishing up some AP homework,” he replies finally. 

“Oh. Cool. Anyway, here's what I got,” Ashlyn says, digging in her bag. “So I think I’ve said this before, but E.J. said that Primary has been doing this since his sophomore year, which  _ means _ that they have to be either a junior or a senior.” She lays a few papers out on the table, and Big Red closes his laptop as she continues. “I could see it going either way—like, maybe they wanted to get a feel for the school their freshman year and decided not to write, or maybe they wanted to help people as quickly as possible, so they started as soon as the school year did. But I said before that I think they’re a junior, and I’m sticking to that, because my gut is always right.” 

“Right,” Red says. “So...is that all?” 

“Not exactly,” she says. She leans in, “I want to do an analysis on the way that they write.”

“What? Why?”   


“Because I think I can figure out their gender if I do.”

Red sucks in a sharp breath. “Oh...well, uh, I don’t think you can actually do that? Like, writing doesn’t have a gender,” he stammers.

“No, but I can get a better idea on what it could be. Listen,” she explains, “From what I’ve read, they seem like an ally, which narrows down a lot of the athletes and crazy Mormons in this school. If I compare their style of writing to one male, one female, and one nonbinary person, I might be able to determine the sex of Primary. It’s a long shot, obviously, but I think I can do it.”

“That...seems kind of arbitrary,” he says after a moment. “Won’t your results be kind of biased? A-And you can’t  _ possibly _ determine the sex of Primary like that. And why their sex, anyway? You’re testing based on gender, which is a separate thing! \”

Ashlyn looks up at him, “Whoa, dude, are you okay? Did I...did I hit a nerve or something?” 

Oh shit. “Uh…” Think! “I-I just don’t think it’ll work out how you planned.”

She’s silent for a few moments, but nods firmly. “You’re right. It was a good idea in theory. Maybe I can just…” she gasps, “I got it! I’ll ask around in the English department! I-I can look at all of the writing-based extracurriculars and—shit, where’s my pen?” 

Big Red closes his eyes and lets out a quick breath of relief. This isn’t gonna be easy, is it? He opens his laptop again and types. 

  
  


_ Dear NOT A Rabbit, _

_ I think all you can do is be honest. Tell her how much you appreciate the effort she’s putting into making you a cake and let her know what kind you actually like. It seems daunting, but it’ll only get worse the more you drag it out. _

_ Signed, _

_ Primary _

Maybe he should take his own advice?

He looks up at Ashlyn as she furiously scribbles in her journal. She looks up, “Oh, hey, while you’re typing, can you make a Google Doc for this and add me to it? I want a digital copy of this stuff.” 

Maybe not. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u guys feel like checking out some of my other hsmtmts stuff, check my profile
> 
> have a great day, and a great holiday season!

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: slugpostage
> 
> have a great day :o)


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